Ex Abyssus
by Isabella101
Summary: When Angel is brought back from hell by the PTB, no one is prepared for the consequences. What are you supposed to do when dimensions start to bleed together? And more importantly, what do you do when you love somebody so much, it hurts? AU Season 3, B/A
1. Chapter 1

**Hello there! This is my first Buffy story on fanfiction, so please tell me what you think by reviewing. I've had this idea for a while, but have only just recently got it down. I only have a couple chapters written out so far so if you want me to continue, please tell me so - you have no idea how much it would mean to me if you left me your thoughts. Hell, even constructive criticism is welcome. Anything to help me along with this story and my writing in general.**

**Disclaimer: I wish I owned Buffy, but sadly I don't. I am merely a teenager that has too much free time on her hands.**

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><p>The smell of burning flesh filled her nostrils. Her eyes were watering from the smoke rising from the ground. The walls and floor were emanating heat so strong, that she could barely stand it. It was if she was standing on hot coals, her skin blistering as she stood there, watching. In a not too distance corner, was a pit. Flames were rising from it, casting flickering shadows across the almost empty cavern.<p>

But she only had eyes for _him_.

Her angel was laid out on a wooden rack that was slightly inclined, placed in the centre of the room. Manacles bound his hands and feet that looked like they had been chaffed raw. There was not a stitch on him; he was left vulnerable and exposed, his body was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. His head was bent and he did not move an inch. It was as if all the life and hope had been sucked out of him.

And yet, he looked as angelic as ever.

There was a rattling sound as the door to the cavern banged open. Her angel still did not move. Heavy footfalls made their way slowly toward the immobile figure and a raspy voice spoke, the kind of one that made chills run down your spine.

"_Hello again, Angelus."_

Again, her angel didn't respond. The monster that had spoken was nearer to him now and by the light of the orange flames, she could see the monster's skeletal frame. The monster's head cocked to one side as it regarded its prisoner.

"_Still tormenting yourself about what you have done, I see," _the monster regarded her angel for a long moment, _"I find that physical pain blocks the mental anguish, so in a way, I am doing you a favour."_

From its pocket, the monster withdrew a small blade. It gleamed maliciously in the firelight; the ancient runes carved along it became a blood red. The monster stepped closer to her angel.

She yelled for the monster to stop, but she had no voice. She couldn't move. As the knife cut her angel's flesh, tears ran down her face. If only she could get to him, to save him…

_Beep. Beep. Beep._

Buffy's eyes snapped open. Ever since the day when Acathla was stopped, each night contained the same terrifying dream of Angel being tortured by the skeletal monster

She lifted a shaking hand and reached and tapped the cheap alarm clock stationed by her bed. She touched her face gently and was startled to find tears on her cheeks.

Brushing these hastily away, the blonde slayer padded through her cheap apartment to the bathroom. She stared at the reflection in the mirror. The person staring back was unrecognisable to her.

There were no apparent changes to her features, the same two moss coloured eyes, the same rosebud mouth, the same golden hair… but if you looked closely, you could see the dead look in her eyes—glassy and emotionless.

When she could no longer take looking into her own eyes, she turned on the faucet and quickly washed her face and began her morning routine. Once her hair was brushed into place and her white and red checkered uniform on, she pinned her nametag on which read "Anne".

Putting on a coat, she took one glance at the dingy apartment that she had called 'home' for the past few months and exited. She entered the small diner where she now had a minimum wage, thankless job as a waitress.

She said hello to Lucy, the middle aged woman working behind the counter, and put on her apron. The first customers of the day were already seated at the small booths. Buffy sighed and picked up her notepad and pencil, ready for another fun-filled day.

The morning ran smoothly and by one o'clock Buffy was thankful that she only had another four hours until she was out of this hellhole.

Buffy surveyed the diner and spotted a vaguely familiar brown fedora atop a stout figure seated at one of the booths. She cautiously approached the booth and saw that it was one of the last people she expected to see.

"Whistler," she stated.

"How ya doing' Slayer," replied the demon, gazing down at the menu.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

"Just getting some grub, though by the looks of the place it would probably wouldn't be the best idea."

"What do you want with me?" she growled.

"Can't I just say hi?"

Her cold glare made his genial smile into a grimace.

"You need to get back to Sunnydale. Something's coming."

She scowled at him and turned to leave.

"Well it isn't as if you have been having nightmares about Angel-boy."

She froze and whipped back to face him.

"How did you—"

Buffy was interrupted when one of her fellow waitresses, Delilah, rushed to her side.

"Anne," she said, glancing back to the manager's office, "you better stop chatting up the customers, Mitch already has it out for you."

As she scuttled away, Buffy turned back to Whistler. She was about to speak when Whistler beat her to it.

"Not now Slayer. I'll meet you at this address at nine, sharp," he passed her a crumpled note with a hastily scrawled address underneath the word 'Caritas'.

She stared at the note and stuffed it in her pocket. Nodding once to Whistler, she returned back to her work, all the while thinking about a certain vampire with an Angelic face.

†

The blonde slayer paced her apartment. She looked down at the address and back to the small clock on the wall telling her that it was already ten to eight. Making a snap decision, she grabbed her coat and bag again and was out the door.

As she walked, she thought about what Whistler had said, about going back to Sunnydale. Guilt set into the pit of her stomach whenever she thought about her friends, her mom and Giles. Pushing the feeling of guilt aside, she looked down from the crumpled piece of paper to the alleyway she had just entered.

A voice came from the darkness, "about time you showed up."

"So you decide that the best place to chat is an alley? I thought you could do better than that, Whistler."

As he stepped into the dull glow of a streetlamp, she saw him give a shrug, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jacket.

"I thought we could go inside."

"What do you mean go inside? There's no inside to go into."

"Just follow me."

A suspicious frown made its way onto her face as she followed him down the alley into a hidden doorway, concealed by darkness.

They entered a low-lit space, tables and chairs scattered everywhere, filled with demons, all facing what looked like a stage with a microphone. At the moment, the spotlights shone down on a very hairy demon doing a rendition of 'Girls just want to have fun'.

Buffy shuddered and followed Whistler to the bar, "a demon karaoke bar?"

Whistler shrugged again and ordered a scotch. She raised an eyebrow and surveyed the crowd again. There were an array of demons, ranging from vamps to—well whatever was on the stage. Her fingers itched for a stake as she watched one of the vamps in the corner drinking blood shots.

"Not so fast, shortbread," said a voice from behind her, "this place is violence free."

Buffy turned to find a green demon with red eyes and horns dressed in a deep purple suit. The demon then held out his hand, "I'm the Host, by the way."

Before she could reply, Whistler cut in, "why don't you just use your real name, Lorne, instead of all this 'host' business."

The demon scowled at Whistler before turning back to Buffy, "So this is the infamous slayer I've been hearing about."

"That's me. Slayer comma The," said Buffy dully, then muttered more to herself, "or at least that's what I used to be."

At that moment the hairy demon hit an extremely high note and everyone in the establishment had to cover their ears. The demon named Lorne, glanced at the stage and looked grateful when the hairy demon stepped down to polite applause, "Yeesh. And I thought it couldn't get worse than seeing a Nerine demon singing 'My Heart Will Go On'"

"Anyways, kiddo. Nice meeting you but I got to tell Bigfoot over there that his wife is gonna leave him, and no wonder…" Lorne turned back to the stage and intercepted the hairy demon that was making its way towards him.

"He's an empathy demon. Can kinda read people when they sing," replied Whistler to Buffy's questioning look.

"Cut to the chase, Whistler. What can you tell me about Angel," she managed not to stumble over his name. Whistler took a long draught of scotch and signaled the bartender for another.

"Whistler," said Buffy warningly.

"Something's coming. Something you can't even imagine. You're not strong enough. Yet."

"And that would be?"

"I don't know. I'm just the messenger. All I knows is that you got to get your butt back to Sunny D."

"Noted. But what did you mean about the nightmares I've been having?"

"They're not nightmares," Whistler sighed, "they're visions."

She froze. All that time it had been real. His pain and his anguish, all because of her. She felt tears gather in her eyes.

"I-I have to go."

"Just remember, Slayer, something's coming."

Ignoring Whistler's comment she hitched her bag higher up on her shoulder and left, praying that she wouldn't have the same...visions that she had been tormented with ever since she put a sword through her lover.

Her prayers went unanswered though and that night was just as worse as all the others. She stood and watched as the knife once again cut into his flesh, which had been healed just to be sliced up again. It was as if the knife was cutting into her own flesh. She called out his name and for a split second, his eyes lifted up to meet hers.

"_Buffy."_

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><p><strong>Love it? Like it? Want to set it on fire and happy dance around the ashes? Just click the review button! I appreciate constructive critisism too :) Tell me if I should continue! Sorry if the characters are a bit OOC!<strong>

**Your Obedient Authoress**

**-Isabella-**


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello again! Thank you for the favourites and alerts you guys gave Ex Abyssus. I would like to thank_ nurjen08_ and _xxdawnbreakerxx_ for taking the time to review since it gives a writer a lot of encouragement and as a (lazy on my part) prize I shall give you each an virtual Angel plushie.**

**Now this chapter will be covering the events of "Dead Man's Party" which means you guys will have to wait a bit for Angel-goodness. Please be patient and try to stick with me because as you know, Angel doesn't come back from the Hell Dimension until the end of "Faith, Hope & Trick" which will be covered in the next chapter. This chapter is a bit shorter than the first, but as the story develops, hopefully the chapters will too. (Oh and if you've read this far through my rant, I congratulate you.)**

****Disclaimer: I wish I owned Buffy, but sadly I don't. I am merely a teenager that has too much free time on her hands.****

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><p>She stepped off the bus and clutched her bag tighter at the thought of seeing her mom and friends again. What would they think of her? With some trepidation, she walked down the familiar streets towards her home.<p>

When she finally reached 1630 Revello Drive, she expected the house to be completely different than what it had been the last time she had seen it three months ago. But no, it was exactly the same, down to the seat placed on the front porch. Buffy walked silently to the front porch and stared at the front door. She raised a shaky hand to knock but found that she couldn't bring herself to rap her knuckles on the wood.

She couldn't do this. Childish fears rose to the surface of her thoughts, her mom would probably tell her to go away and never come back. Buffy shook her head and told herself to get a grip and before she could think of more reasons to leave hop right back on the next bus, she knocked on the door and waited. After what felt like an age, Joyce Summers opened the door.

"Buffy?"

"Uh, hi," said Buffy feebly. They stared at each other for a moment in silence.

"Mom—" Buffy began to apologize, but was cut off by her mother's embrace.

"My baby," she heard her mom whisper into her shoulder, "You're here; you're home."

Before she could suppress it, tears began to leak out of her eyes, "I missed you."

She held her mother tighter to her, and everything felt better.

†

Being back in her old room still didn't have any effect on the nightmares. In fact they seemed to be getting worse.

Even when she wasn't asleep, she still felt the pain of Angel. Every time she remembered what Whistler told her, it felt as though a knife had been twisted in her gut. '_The pain he's going through, is real. The monster is real._ '

It didn't make things better that Xander, Willow and to a lesser extent, Giles resented her absence and pretended everything was peachy. They even threw, what Oz had dubbed, a 'hootenanny'

But living in Sunnydale, nothing quite got people to reconcile like the way the Hellmouth did. This time it had been a zombie attack on her house that had been caused by the ancient tribal mask that her mom had hung up in her bedroom for decoration. She was also informed that the police had cleared her of all charges.

That was only one of the loose ends that had been left hanging when Buffy had skipped town. There was still the matter of fact that she had been expelled from school, and Principal Snyder wasn't exactly concealing his delight that she wouldn't be able to get back into school

"You have no right to keep her out!" exclaimed Joyce, staring incredulously at the Principal who heavily resembled a troll.

"I can and I will," Snyder replied, not bothering to cover up his smile now.

In her mind, Buffy was imagining what it would be like to squish the little troll under her foot. Murder wasn't always illegal, was it? As she watched her mother and him argue further, she concluded that the law had to make exceptions for this kind of thing. Besides who would miss him any way?

She was broken out of her daydream by her mother's voice.

"I will take this all the way to the mayor if I have to!" said Joyce, rising out of her chair. Buffy followed suit and she too, stood up.

The troll's response was an ugly smile, "I'd love to see how that plays out."

As they walked out of the room, Buffy voiced the thoughts that had been going through her mind while in the office. Joyce suppressed a laugh and shook her head.

"You only just cleared your name Buffy, you don't want to go drag it through the mud again, besides," Joyce glanced back in the direction of Snyder's office and then looked back to Buffy, "I was rather hoping to kill him myself."

She was afraid to sleep. The dark circles under her eyes could attest to that. Buffy gazed at her waxy reflection in the bathroom mirror. Her moss coloured eyes were freed from their previous innocence to be replaced by a haunted, dead look. As much as she tried to act like her old self, she knew that she couldn't fool anyone. The slayer sighed and washed her face, before returning to her bedroom.

As she lay under the covers, she fought to stay awake. She had to stay awake…

†

The heat was even worse than before, if that was possible. The rack was now gone but it took merely a moment for her eyes to find him. His arms raised above his head, tied by a thick chain – the only thing keeping him upright as his legs looked like they couldn't hold his own weight.

The monster was already there, circling her angel like a vulture. His red gaze looked on with a sadistic glee as he did so.

"_You long for what you cannot have, Angelus."_

Her Angel remained, as always, unmoving.

"_When you did get what you wanted, it took away a part of you. It took away your soul."_

"_I have seen what you have done, Angelus. I know your sins," _a knowing smile crossed the monster's face. _"That slayer of yours, she seems like one hell of a gal. I've always liked a bit of fire in a woman."_

A growl rumbled around the room. Angel's brow becoming ridged, eyes yellow, fangs descending. The vampire struggled against his bonds, trying to get at the monster.

"_Interesting,"_ the monster observed, not phased by Angel's newfound ferocity, _"very interesting indeed."_

Angel continued to snap and snarl, pure bloodlust in his yellow eyes. She flinched followed by a sharp intake of breath. Both heads snapped in her direction, pairs of yellow and red eyes gazing as though they could actually see her.

…Could they?

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><p><strong>Please click the button below and review! <strong>

**Your Obedient Authoress**

**-Isabella-**


	3. Chapter 3

**Why hello there! Again, thank you for the favourites and alerts you guys gave Ex Abyssus. Special thanks goes out to _ssgohan79, meredithgrey23, Anna Lane,_ and_ xxdawnbreakerxx _for leaving such awesome reviews for the last chapter! Again, a prize goes out to you for reviewing, this time the prize is an imaginary angel-shaped cookie! (Spikey hair and all)**

**Now this chapter will be covering the events of "Faith, Hope & Trick." Since I didn't want to just re-type the whole episode that you guys have already seen, I have sorta skipped past it. After this, the events may still be loosely based on cannon but in the end it will be my story (I cannot stand reading stories that just reiterate the episodes and have little deviation). Also, the last little bit of this chapter was pretty fun to write, and I felt kind of evil writing it (Well evil to you readers anyway)**

****Disclaimer: I wish I owned Buffy, but sadly I don't. I am merely a teenager that has too much free time on her hands.****

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><p>There was something really wiggy with the visions she was having. For one thing, her 'usual' slayer visions it didn't come with the surround sound, nor did it usually feel like that she was actually in the room with the subject of her vision. Buffy could still feel the heat that radiated from the rocky cavern walls.<p>

But it was those last few seconds of the vision last week that really had her weirded out. It was as if they could actually see her. Buffy shook her blonde head, scoffing at the thought. She stopped for a moment; a memory from another vision arose in her mind. When she had called his name, his head had raised. Hell, he even whispered her name as if it were a prayer.

Buffy bit her lip and rose from her bed. She had had a lot going on ever since the new slayer, Faith, had arrived in town along with an ancient vampire named "Kissing toast" or something like that. Not only that, but Principle Snyder had had no choice but to let her back into school so know she was making up for all the tests she had missed.

The hardest thing, however, was trying to move on from Angel. This was easier said than done though as whenever she thought about it, her heart felt like it had been stabbed through by one of her own stakes. It didn't help much either that the visions of Angel were getting more vivid.

†

Buffy shook the memories of the visions from her head as she walked down the hallways of Sunnydale High. Her books clutched tightly under her arms and her moss-green gaze trained strictly onto the floor. That is, until she ran into a human wall. Her books landed on the floor with a thud, loose notes finding their way out of the pages and littering the floor.

The slayer looked up and saw Scott Hope, her sort of boyfriend standing there. She stooped to the floor and began to pick up the things that had fallen to the floor and he followed suit. A stream of apologies left her mouth, all becoming jumbled as she spoke so quickly that she doubted that he would be able to make sense of it all. He did however get the gist of what she was trying to say and smiled.

"It should be me that's sorry, I wasn't really paying attention back there," he gave her another grin, "My thoughts were kinda… elsewhere."

Buffy gave a little laugh and nodded, continuing to scoop everything up, "Mine too. But I've been kinda jumpy and distracted all day so some of the blame falls on me."

He's brows furrowed, "You okay?"

"Yeah, just need to get a little more shut eye," she rambled, "You know studying hard and such."

She internally slapped herself. Who ever said that they stayed up all night studying? She should have made something cool up like, 'I was at a party' or 'I snuck out of the house really late'

But Scott smiled again and straightened up, handing her all her things that had been dropped, "Don't worry, I have to do that sometimes too. I'm not exactly known for doing my studying as soon as possible and more known for doing everything the night before it's due."

Buffy smiled, "Okay so you can be King of the Procrastinators, I'll settle for Queen."

"You bet on it. See you later Buffy," he said before walking down the hallway and out of sight. Buffy made her way to the library, feeling slightly better and yet slightly guilty at the same time. She swung open the library doors and was surprised to see Faith sitting on the table, twirling a dagger in one hand.

"Hey, B," said the dark haired slayer, not looking up at Buffy.

"Hey Faith," said Buffy, putting all her books down on the table a bit away from Faith's twirling knife, "Where's Giles?"

Faith shrugged, the knife ever spinning, "Dunno."

Buffy waited for her to elaborate. She didn't, instead she put down the knife and moved to where all the weapons were held. She put the small knife down and picked up an ancient battle-axe. When she turned, Buffy could see the look of excitement in her face.

"Yo, B," she said, swinging the axe around as she moved, "you ever try one of these things?"

The blade whistled through the air as she swung.

"Can't say that I have," said Buffy, eying Faith warily.

"I bet this could cut a vamp's head clean off," said Faith, watching as the blade continued to cut through the air with a whistle, "I am so taking this on patrol tonight."

Buffy knew that there was little she could do to talk Faith out of using the huge battle-axe on tonight's patrol. When Faith's mind was made up, it was made up—no room for compromise.

†

When Buffy got home from patrol, she went through her usual routine. Change into pajamas, Wash face, brush hair, go to bed and then proceed to try not to fall asleep. But as Buffy lay down her head on the soft pillow, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about tonight. In fact, she had been feeling off all day—being jumpy and distracted. She could worry about that tomorrow though, maybe ask Giles if anything hell-mouthy had been going on lately to make her feel on edge.

Buffy closed her eyes…

†

A light breeze wafted through the brightly lit meadow, making the grass ripple. The blonde slayer shifted in her lover's arms as she watched a humming bird zoom past. She sighed and leaned back into his chest, "I never want to leave." She felt him give a light chuckle as he pressed a kiss into her hair. Buffy closed her eyes and felt the warmth of the sun on her face.

No pain, no worries, no heartbreak— she was content, complete.

She felt him move from behind, maneuvering himself until he was right in front of her. With her eyes shut, she could feel his hands ghost up her arms— a feather light touch that sent both shivers and heat up her limbs. Wherever he touched her, the skin there felt like it was on fire— like the nerves had burst into flames.

His fingers, trailed along her chin while she determinately remained still. She could feel the pad of his thumb brushing across her bottom lip— his cool breath fanning across her face, she could sense his lips hovering over her own—hesitating to make contact.

When his lips touched hers— they were cool and surprisingly soft. It took only a heartbeat until her lips began to move with his, her pulse pounding in her ears as the kiss began to become more urgent. Her teeth grazed his bottom lip making him moan.

"_Buffy…" _a familiar voice whispered in her ear— she froze, her stomach dropping. Buffy hesitantly opened her eyes, looking into a pair of irises that were a deep brown. Her eyes widened in disbelief, her mouth dry, her breathing hitched in her throat,

"…Angel?"

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><p><strong>Aren't I evil? -Grins madly-<strong>

**Please click the button below and review! Reviews encourage me to write (Even constructive criticism)**

**Your Obedient Authoress**

**-Isabella-**


	4. Chapter 4

**Um Hi again! I should really start with an apology. Life's been a bit hectic at the moment, and the USB on which I store all my stories is well... pretty much dead. I'm sorry to have been gone so long, and I really hope that it won't happen again. Also, I'm about to go into year 11 at school so life will be even more hectic than before as I'm determined to become like Hermione or Willow, and actually study.**

**Thank you for the favourites and alerts you guys gave Ex Abyssus. Special thanks goes out to the people that reviewed- you guys receive a life-size Angel Cardboard cut out as prize! ****This chapter follows the events of Beauty and the Beasts. I think this will be the last really cannon one (because I adore the scene at the end of it) so forgive me if I just reiterate the episode into a shorter version. **

******Disclaimer: I wish I owned Buffy, but sadly I don't. I am merely a teenager that has too much free time on her hands.******

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><p>Buffy blinked for a second, and the meadow was gone, as was Angel. She felt tears sting her eyes as she stared at the ceiling of her bedroom. The slayer could have sworn it was real— it felt so real. Buffy raised a trembling hand to her lips, it had felt like the past months had all been a bad dream, that Angelus had never been set free and it was just herself and Angel.<p>

The slayer closed her eyes for a moment, thinking. Why hadn't she had a vision of Angel being tortured as she had done every single night since sending him to hell? She frowned, trying to think of any possible explanation for the odd dream. But she had never been the brains of the Scooby gang— she was the slayer, all with the physical stuff like fighting and such. Could she ask Giles? Buffy bit her lip, she had yet to tell him and the rest of the gang that she was having these visions of Angel.

But how would they react if she did tell them? She could imagine Giles cleaning his glasses over and over as he tried to think of what to say, _"Are you sure these are visions? I must consult some past watcher diaries to see if this has ever occurred before…"_

Willow would be similar, _"Giles is right, we probably should see if any other slayers had trouble with this sort of thing before. Not that it's a trouble! I mean… we just want to help you get better… but not like in the way that we think you're going insane or anything… somebody should stop me now…"_

Xander's reaction would be more vocal: _"visions of dead boy? You sure you're not just eating a banana or something before bed? Cos I once did that and I dreamt that I was forced to tap dance in front of an audience of clowns…"_

Yeah, that would definitely not be the best idea for the moment. But the question haunted her, what did her dream mean?

†

Buffy was stuck with patrol for the evening as Faith had opted for Oz duty. The night before, when Xander had fallen asleep on his shift, a boy had been brutally attacked. The window to Oz's makeshift cage had been pushed open, so there was a possibility that it could have been a werewolf attack. Buffy shuddered and felt a stab of sympathy for her stoic friend.

She rounded the bushes and was harshly knocked to the side by a blurred figure. Buffy rolled and looked up to her assailant. Her heart stopped. Everything stopped.

He looked different than he had in her visions, and yet still the same. Was that even possible? Buffy didn't know, all she could focus on was the man before her. He was snapping and snarling, half naked and wild looking. There was a yellow glint to his eye that was reminiscent of the beast that lay within him.

She was pulled from her reverie as he lunged for her with an animalistic ferocity. Using her slayer reflexes, she rolled out of his way just in time. Buffy scrambled to her feet and sent a punch into her ex-lover's face, knocking him out cold. She stared at him for a few moments before crouching down and gripping his arm. There would be time to think about this later, for now she just had to get him out of here.

†

He was back, the thought repeated over and over in her brain. _He's back. He's back. He's back. _

He was heavy in her arms, even with her slayer strength. She hauled him towards the wall, spotting a loop that would be perfect to lace some chains through. Her work was almost clinical as she left him for a few moments raiding chests for what she was looking for. There, in a dusty chest amongst porcelain dolls, was a set of chains and manacles.

She grabbed them and hurried back to the unconscious Angel. As quickly and gently as she could, she threw the chain through the metal loop embedded in the wall before binding his hands in the manacles.

Her lip curled in slight disgust at the sight—reminded of the chains that had bound him in hell, in her visions.

The sweet mantra that filled her mind, continued to grow louder, trying to convince her that it was real. Her heart felt light, beating so fast that it was almost reminiscent of a hummingbird's wings. Her moss coloured eyes swiveled towards him. He was still knocked out cold, but she was sure that that wouldn't last for long.

She took a step back, her eyes refusing to leave his form. Convinced that if she took her sight off him for a second— or even blinked —he would disappear, leaving her all alone again. Her eyes caught the fraction of movement in his left hand. Her heart jumped.

Angel's eyelids flickered for a moment, before they snapped open. In one second, his yellow tinged eyes assessed the situation he was in. He leapt up, the chains clinking. They held him there as he tried in vain to free himself. Buffy watched in fascination at the sight of him. A predator, an animal. His teeth were bared.

A low rumbling echoed throughout the almost empty space. It took Buffy a second to realise that the sound was coming from Angel. He was growling, his yellowish eyes trained on her. She took a step forward, then another.

He made another startling movement though. He was up, moving as close to her as he possibly could with his chains. He snapped and snarled at her, baring his fangs. She leapt back from him. She had never been afraid of a vampire before, not like this, and certainly not by Angel. Then, as suddenly as it had happened, he was crouched back to the wall—shrouding his face from her.

What time was it anyway? She had school in the morning. As soon as the thought entered her head though, she knew she would not be able to sleep. Buffy sighed and decided to head to the library; one of Giles' musty old books had to explain this. Besides, she could take the reins from Faith on Oz watch.

With one last look at the cowering Angel, she left.

†

She awoke as a hand shook her shoulder.

"Buffy?"

"Giles what are you doing in my—Oh," she remembered where she was, just as the thick book on her lap fell to the floor with a dull thud.

"I guess those books were a sure way to cure my insomnia," she gave a laugh of embarrassment. Sunlight was streaming through the windows, highlighting the dust specks that filled the air.

Giles gave a small worried smile and bent to pick up the book that had fallen to the carpeted floor, also coming across a second book that must have fallen off Buffy's lap while she slept. His brow puckered as he read the titles.

"The History of Acathla? Exploring Demon Dimensions?"

Buffy began to panic. She couldn't tell him; no way would he be the understanding father figure she had come to know him as. Not when it came to Angel. The urge to protect him welled up inside of her and Buffy's mind went into a frenzy to come up with some excuse.

"I've been having these… dreams lately of Angel," she said, not meeting his eyes.

Giles sighed and sat down on the carpeted floor beside her, "But they are just dreams."

"_Very_ realistic dreams. This was vivid. Really vivid. Three-dimensional, sensurround,  
>the hills are alive," she amended.<p>

"A slayer dream?"

The blonde slayer shook her head and looked down at her hands, "Is… is it possible for… him to come back?"

Even though she wasn't looking and him, she knew Giles was now cleaning his glasses.

"Buffy…" he began, "Even if Angel were to come back, he would be different. Time passes differently in Hell than it does here. Any being who manages to return from that would surely have become a monster, if it could be done at all. It would take someone of extraordinary character to retain any semblance of oneself… "

_Well that explained the whole growly thing…_

He sighed, "In my experience, there are two types of monster. The first can be redeemed, or more importantly, wants to be redeemed."

"And the second type?" questioned Buffy

"The second is void of humanity... cannot respond to reason or love."

"But if there was a way—"

He cut her off, "Buffy no matter how realistic dreams can be, they are still just that, _dreams_."

They were interrupted as Willow arrived to tell them that her investigation was not conclusive.

Was it possible…?

No, she reasoned weakly with herself, Angel wouldn't do something like that.

_'He's not the man you knew,'_ whispered a voice in her head, '_he's a monster now—Giles himself said so…'_

She was jumpy and distracted for the first part of her day and by lunch she was resolved. She had to see Angel. Buffy made up some flimsy excuse about seeing Mr. Platt (the school counselor that she had been forced to see.)

The blonde slayer hurried out of the school and ran all the way to the mansion.

It was with some trepidation that she entered. But she bottled her fears up; she had to know that there was some semblance of the Angel she knew, the Angel that would not kill the innocent. She found him curled up in a ball, his head snapping to her as she entered. She kept her distance this time. Watching him. He watched her too, his yellow eyes distrustful. She tilted her head, and he copied, causing her to laugh. A growl escaped Angel, effectively silencing it. It appeared that he did not like being laughed at.

Buffy knew that her time was up. So it was with a heavy heart that she left the growling Angel without any proof that he was still in there. But who could really blame him after what he had to endure?

She returned to school. She needed… she needed…

What did she need?

Before she knew it, her feet had carried her to Mr. Platt's office. She knocked and entered. She found him sitting there, the top of his head only visible as he had his chair turned away from her.

"Mr. Platt? I know this is sudden and everything but I need your advice on something."

She waited for him to respond, but he didn't.

"Mr. Platt?"

She walked over to him and was shocked at what she found, or what was left of him anyway. Buffy turned and ran to the library to tell Giles. Relief coursed through her veins. It was day time! There was no way Angel could have escaped his bonds and killed poor Mr. Platt. So she was sorry that the guy was dead and everything, she had kinda liked him…

†

After coming to the conclusion that Pete was indeed the killer, the group split up. Buffy andWillowwent in search of Debbie, only to find that when they tried to talk some sense into her, Debbie began to defend Pete and his actions.

"He does love me. He does love me."

"I think we broke her," whispered Willow.

Buffy looked on at the muttering Debbie, "I think she was broken before this."

They left her and returned to the library only to find Oz in wolf form, attacking a red and veiny Pete. Buffy acted quickly and got the tranquiliser gun. She took aim at Oz but as she pulled the trigger, her arm was knocked aside. Debbie had decided to join.

The dart flew out of the gun and hit Giles, causing him to pass out behind the reception desk. Pete made his escape, but not before Oz bit him on the arm. Buffy passed the tranquiliser gun to Faith and ran after Pete.

She had lost sight of him. Damn he was fast. Her eyes searched and found their reward—a bright red liquid on the window sill next to her. She climbed through it, following the trail of blood that Pete left behind.

When she followed the trail into the supply room, she found Debbie lying on the floor. Buffy stooped to her side and checked for a pulse but found none. She was knocked off her feet and the fight began.

Buffy leapt back to her feet quickly using her slayer speed. Pete's red, distorted face yelled and screamed at her—taking wild and dangerous swipes with his long and sharp looking nails. Pete got a hit in, forcing Buffy to the ground. He lifted his arm up for another strike but before the stroke could fall, the door banged open.

Her Angel had come.

His yellow eyes took her in on the ground and then flicked to Pete, whose head had turned to the intrusion. The battle before her was a quick one, filled with roars of fury and low growls. Angel used the chain still clamped to his wrists as a sort of lasso. They wrapped around Pete's neck and with a sharp tug—there was an awful cracking sound and Pete fell to the floor, unmoving.

She stood, her gaze unwavering. His growls died, as did his fighting stance, he turned to face her. They stood across from each other for a few moments before he took a tentative step towards her.

With each step, his face was transforming. Ridged brow disappearing, fangs retracting, feral yellow eyes becoming a soft brown.

"Buffy?"

She stood stock still as he came close. He surprised her by sinking to his knees before her, wrapping his arms around her small waist.

"Buffy."

Her shirt was being stained by his tears. She gazed upwards and thanked the heavens for her dearest possession back. A tear slipped through her lashes as she closed her eyes and stood there. But standing was not enough, she had to _feel, _she had to know that he was truly there. Buffy unwrapped his arms from her and sank to the floor. She silently bid him to come closer to her, and he willingly obliged. He curled up on the cold floor, his head resting in her lap. Her soft hand ran through his hair, her tears mingling with his own as they landed onto his face.

"My Angel," she began whispering, fingers touching his cheek, "My Angel"

†

Willow walked the halls after getting the now tranquilised Oz back in his cage, calling out for Buffy. She saw the traces of red on the window sill leading to the outside hallway and knew that Buffy would have followed it. She took the long way around though, her being an uncoordinated climber at best. When she reached the door leading to the supply room, she could hear sobs escaping the slightly open door.

She looked and saw… no. No that was definitely not back, and gave a muffled gasp—but both parties inside did not notice. Shaking, she looked again. Sure enough, Buffy was sitting on the floor and, with his head in her lap, was Angel. Both were crying, whispering things thatWillowstrained her ears to hear.

She couldn't though, and was forced to watch the couple for a while. Her first instinct was to run and tell Giles, Angelus is back. But looking at him now, she realized that it wasn't him. It was Angel. Angelus would never subject himself to a weak state—even if it was an act.

No, the curse had worked and she knew it. She moved away from the door, away from the not to inform Giles. Angel was no danger, and it would be a betrayal to Buffy if she tattled on her.

Willow walked the deserted hallways and knew she had made the right decision.

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><p><strong>Please click the button below and review! Reviews encourage me to write (Even constructive criticism)<strong>

**Your Obedient Authoress**

**-Isabella-**


	5. Chapter 5

**Hello again! I would just like to apologise in advance for the shortness/ filler-ness of this chapter, I would also like to apologise for the "misspelled" words that have slipped through. I am not comfortable or used to spelling things without the "u"s or replacing "s"s with "z"s, but since Buffy is American, I have attempted to incorporate some of the American spellings in this story. I would like to give a big thank you to _nurjen08, Angellufy, SMGbest, _and _jude1028 _as a reward, all of you receive virtual stake- for all your virtual vampire slaying needs.**

**Also, I would like to address the issue of Willow being out of character and not telling the rest of the Scoobies that Angel is back. Willow is Buffy's best friend, I like the idea of there being an unwavering loyalty between the two of them (true friendship being one of the main things that we hope to gain in life). I also want to make this story have suspense and tension- by Willow telling the Scoobies that Angel is back, I think it just takes the suspense out of it (because the longer we wait, the more explosive the reveal will be) **

**So anyway, that's enough of my ranting. Please enjoy this chapter.**

******Disclaimer: I wish I owned Buffy, but sadly I don't. I am merely a teenager that has too much free time on her hands.******

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><p>A rumbling, not due to a storm, raged throughout the town of Sunnydale.<p>

On the bad side of town, in one of the more derelict and vandalized graveyards, there was a bright flashing of light.

A skeletal figure, cloaked in a blood red cape and suit, seemingly dropped from the sky. He landed with a grace that could not be possessed by a normal human being. In fact, his whole appearance suggested that he was not of this world. Most noticeably, the red irises that shone in the darkness.

The figure's thin lip curled at the smell of the cool and fresh night air. He longed for the brimstone, fire, and blood of his own world. But no matter, the air would be filled with terrified screams soon enough.

He began to walk, a predator like one at that. He would soon claim this world for his own.

†

He winced yet again.

"I'm sorry," blurted out Buffy for what seemed like the millionth time that evening. Angel gave his usual sorrowful gaze as she continued to bandage his wounds.

His encounter with Pete four days ago had resulted in some pretty nasty scratches. Though neither of them had spoken of that night since, both the slayer and the vampire knew that there was some unspoken agreement between the two. That it would be best if they remained just friends.

After all, Buffy was with Scott now, not that Angel knew that, and she was very comfortable… no, happy around him. The fight between Pete and Angel had left the vampire extremely weakened—he ought not have pushed himself like that.

Buffy firmly maintained that she could've taken the monster that had consumed Pete, she had only been momentarily blindsided. Yet deeper down, she knew that she was glad that he had come.

"You shouldn't apologise, Buffy," he murmured quietly, watching as she continued to gently bandaged his hand. This was about the millionth he had said this in response. She gave a huff and roll of her eyes- refraining from arguing with him… only just. She finished the bandaging, not focusing on the fact that it was nice to feel his large and graceful hands in her own small ones. She decidedly pushed herself further away from him on the newly purchased couch, next to the brown paper bag that she had brought with her.

Her hands gripped the bag and she thrust it towards him. They both knew its contents- Angel couldn't take the risk of being seen, nor did he really have the strength to take care of himself at the moment. She could hear the liquid sloshing in its container, it didn't really bother her- in her line of work, blood was not really an uncommon thing seen. Angel took the bag gently from her and she could see the hunger flash in his eyes.

"I know it's not exactly fresh…" Buffy said ashamedly. Her only way of getting sustenance that Angel needed was to visit the Sunnydale Butcher. Surprisingly, the butcher did not ask any questions as to what Buffy was going to do with it. Then again, nothing in Sunnydale was exactly normal. He probably thought she was partaking in some pagan ritual or something like that. Angel looked at her again, the ever present guilt that was now in his eyes was fully directed at her. It almost made her wince. All that pain and suffering she had caused and he was the one that felt guilty?

She cowered slightly under his gaze, focusing on her hands in her lap finding them the most interesting thing that she had ever seen. She felt, rather than saw him nod. Her slayer senses were going haywire, aware of every muscle that moved and flexed, every series of simple gestures that were done with such an inhuman grace. Or maybe that was just because the particular vampire sitting a few feet from her (What she had liked to dub her "Angel Sense", when she had only just begun to know him.)

She looked up again and found him staring at the bag. He never ate in front of her. After the first night that she had brought him the cold pig's blood, they had argued resulting in the horrific, yet not totally unheard of, act of Angel calling himself a demon and a monster.

She, of course in the usually Buffy-fashion, had replied glibly and had stormed out of the mansion. Buffy did return the next night though, carrying the brown bag from the butcher. They did not mention the spat from the night before, and Buffy left just as soon as he had taken the bag from her grasp.

Buffy stood, knowing it was her cue to leave. Angel looked up and Buffy's heart clenched at the disappointed look that he was giving her.

"You're leaving?"

The blonde slayer shifted her weight uncomfortably from foot to foot, and nodded, not trusting her own voice as it would surely declare that she was staying.

She gave a small smile to him, and a promise to be back tomorrow. Buffy left the mansion as fast as her feet would carry her. All she wanted now was to find something to kill.

†

"—and she didn't turn up, after I had expressly told her that we were going to have a lesson on the mystical properties of certain stones," Giles huffed, piling yet more books onto the already overladen table.

Xander leaned back in his chair and shrugged, "Can't exactly blame the Buffster for clocking out on that one, Giles."

"Honestly, if that girl did not have her head attached to her body, she would lose it in a matter of minutes."

"That'd throw off the vamps, bet they've never seen a headless slayer before."

Giles didn't even bother to correct the teenage boy, who was now crossing his eyes and leaning back on the hind legs of his chair.

Faith snorted before continuing to eye the books with a mild distaste, "B wasn't with me last night, I offered for us to go patrolling together, but she said that she was doing that weird rock thingie with you."

Willow, who had been listening to the conversation while flicking through the pages of a particularly old book on the customs of Wicca. Buffy had told her some excuse about how her mom was making her stay in the night when Willow had invited her to the Bronze. She could have been patrolling, but… then why would she lie about being under house arrest for the evening? Unless…

The unbidden image of Buffy and Angel crying together on the floor of the supplies room rose to the front of her mind, and she stifled her gasp.

"Well she certainly didn't make it to this 'weird rock thingie'. I must speak with her about this," affirmed Giles, promptly taking off his glasses and rubbing them with the cloth he kept in his pocket.

"She was with me," blurted out Willow, effectively stopping Giles' rant, "We had to study. Buffy must have forgotten to tell you."

"A study party? And I wasn't invited?" said Xander, mock hurt written all over his face. Willow rolled her eyes, feeling herself becoming more comfortable with the lie.

Giles looked at Willow, his eyebrow raised—he did not comment or question though, and for that Willow was grateful. A moment later, Buffy herself appeared in the door way of the library, making her way over to an empty seat beside Willow. She took one confused look at the stacks of book on the table, her eyebrows raised.

"Are we starting a book club?"

Buffy shot Giles an amused glance, not realizing how close she had just come to being discovered.

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><p><strong>Please click the button below and review! Reviews encourage me to write (Even constructive criticism)<strong>

**Your Obedient Authoress**

**-Isabella-**


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